


A New Hunt (Soulmates Part 1)

by IarnaStrom



Series: Soulmates [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:28:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6359302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IarnaStrom/pseuds/IarnaStrom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily has been hunting on her own for almost ten years.  She doesn't have much to show for it except her old 1979 Mercury Cougar, a body covered in more ink than skin, and a heart that had been broken a long time ago by a boy with smiling eyes and shaggy brown hair.  Now, that boy has returned to her life in the form of her newest target to hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Hunt (Soulmates Part 1)

Emily breathed in deep and exhaled slowly, trying to stay awake behind the wheel of the run down ’79 Cougar she’d been limping across the country for the last six years. Credence Clearwater Rival was blasting through the speakers and she yawned as she hummed along with Bad Moon Rising. The sun was rising on her right as she pushed her long brown hair off her face and put her sunglasses on. If she’d been more awake, she might have admired the way the clean light broke through the dense trees on either side of the highway, giving the road an ethereal feel as it burned away the night’s fog. Thankfully, the drivers were sparse ahead and behind her, giving her the sense that she was alone on the asphalt. It was mid-June in Florida, giving her the chance to open the windows and enjoy the warm, humid air clinging to the skin exposed by her battered t-shirt advertising Singer’s Salvage Yard. She idly scratched her right arm, running her fingernails over the multicolored little flowers that wrapped around from her shoulder to her wrist. Some were more faded than others, but each one was a kill she’d achieved without one person that still haunted her dreams. She felt like an idiot more often than not for still loving him so deeply. He’d sauntered into her life unannounced and turned her world on its head. After that week, he’d proven that she was little more than an afterthought to him, if he remembered her at all. But she couldn’t let go of the memory of the happiest she’d ever been.

She yawned again hard enough for her jaw to crack as a green and white sign heralded a chance to get coffee at the next exit. She hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours before hitting the road, but the familiar ache and tightness of the skin on her shoulder kept her awake. After her most recent hunt was done, she’d looked at her journal and realized she’d been slacking with marking her kills, so she’d found a good place to get ink and decided to take a nap while the artist worked the needle over her skin. That was her only break before gassing up, getting food, and heading out for her next hunt.

She both loved and loathed long solo drives. The upside was it gave her time to think. The downswing was that she always thought about the same thing; her past and how she’d gotten where she was at that point, a cold-hearted killer with a death wish. The constant trek down Amnesia Lane was bad enough, to be honest, but the tendency for her car to break down, leaving her alone to fix it, added to the dread of flying solo. But Bobby had taught her how to keep the beast running though he’d tried to convince her to swap it out for a different vehicle several times. When she’d found it in the junkyard in Louisiana, she’d called him to drag the POS all the way back to his scrap yard in Sioux Falls. She’d bought it from the owner of the junkyard for a carton of smokes and a case of beer. She would have drained the meager savings she had to get the hunk of junk out of the automobile graveyard. Bobby had grumbled about it not being worth the trip to the convenience store until she told him who it belonged to. 

She’d grown up in that car, working on it with her dad on the weekends, and had recognized it by the “My Student can kick your Honor Student’s Ass” bumper-sticker. When she told Bobby that it had belonged to her dad, he’d made a sour face and hauled them both back without a word. He knew that car was her only piece of the family she’d lost when she was twelve and had made it his goal to get it running again. Part of her knew it was because he was hoping it would help her try to be normal, get a real job, go to college, and whatnot. But it had become the only home she’d ever known, crisscrossing the country in search of the things that had killed her family.

She’d been at a sleep-over when it all went down, blissfully ignorant of the bloodbath at home. While she watched Titanic on VHS with her friends, mooning over Jack and Rose, a nest of vampires had caught her father’s scent in the woods while he was hunting for deer. They’d followed him home to the little plantation house she’d lived in her whole life and slaughtered her family in the night. When she’d come home the next morning, she’d slid on the thick red ooze on the floor left behind by the leeches’ frenzy. She’d found her little sister first, still clutching the Cabbage Patch doll with the bright pink bow. She’d screamed her head off and run for the phone to call the police when she found her parents dead in the kitchen. She screamed even louder until a big, rough hand clamped down on her mouth and two strong arms snapped her up. 

The man’s name was Rufus and he’d been tracking the vampires that had gotten her family. He’d held her as she cried into his neck, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. He was the one that told her that monsters were real, but he would make sure the vampires didn’t get anyone else. He’d sat with her until the police came and when they asked how he knew Emily, the lie rolled off her tongue so easily it made Rufus pause. She told them that he was her uncle and they looked at her strangely, considering Emily was whiter than flour and Rufus was black. She said he wasn’t related by blood; he was a friend of her father’s when he was in Vietnam and, at that point, was the only family she had. Rufus had kept his mouth shut and played along while they were there, but after they left he called her out on the lie.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, girl,” he’d said holding her tiny hands in his as they sat across from each other at the dining room table, “but, I can’t take you with me.”

“Please,” she’d begged. “I don’t have anyone else. What if the vampires come back after you’re gone? I can’t take them out on my own.”

“A hunter’s life is no place for a twelve-year-old girl,” he’d insisted, but as he looking into her silvery blue eyes, welling with tears, he’d cracked. “One hunt. We’ll take out the blood-suckers that got your family and then I’m dropping you off at the nearest orphanage.”

“Deal,” she’d said easily.

But it hadn’t been just the one hunt. They’d kept up the cover that he was her uncle for six years while he’d taught her everything he knew about the life. Sometimes, he’d go after something he didn’t want to risk her safety with and would drop her with Bobby in Sioux Falls. He was used to being the go to nanny with hunter’s kids and welcomed her like he’d welcomed his boys. 

She was fourteen the first time she met the Winchester brothers and their dad, John. They were taking a break between jobs and John had decided to go visit an old friend like he did every year, so the boys opted to hang out with Bobby and her. Dean was twenty-one and full of piss and vinegar, telling her that she was too small to hunt on her own until she’d sparred with him in the living room and had him pinned in thirty seconds flat. Sam was seventeen, though he was quite a bit bigger, and had laughed his ass off for over an hour at his brother’s sour antics at losing to a girl half his size.

Sam had pretty much claimed her after that, keeping her close to his side and threatening to sic her on Dean if he got out of line. The boys had stayed there for a week and a half, and in that time, she and Sam became best friends. They talked about everything under the sun, comparing their favorite books and music to find a lot of them were the same. He told her that he wasn’t sure about hunting and that sometimes he felt like he wanted out. They shared their horrible pasts with each other and sat in the scrap yard under the stars every night together. He was her first kiss the last night he was there and she’d fallen hard for the boy with smiling eyes and shaggy brown hair. The next morning, when John had come back, he’d promised they’d go out on her first date when they came back if she was there.

“You promise you’re not going to go falling in love with some other girl?” she’d asked half-jokingly.

“I promise,” he’d said and kissed her again quickly, keeping them tucked out of view as his dad started honking. “I really like you, Emily.”

She didn’t want to admit it at the time, but she felt the same. For the first time since she’d lost her family, she thought, maybe, just maybe, she could have a real life. He’d kissed her again, lingering a little, until Dean started shouting for him to get a move on. He’d left with a promise that he would always come back, but that promise had been broken too easily.

She’d decided to stay with Bobby for a while, getting her high school diploma and helping with the hub. She didn’t tell him she was waiting for Sam, but he saw the sadness creeping in when she thought of him. He left her alone about it, letting her work in the scrap yard with him to earn some cash for college. He was thankful that she was going legit and didn’t want anything to ruin it, even when she started making weapons to sell to the hunters that frequently dropping in. Bobby had built her a forge at the back of the property and let her take scrap from the cars. She immersed herself in lore as she worked, using the symbols and sigils she found to fortify the knives and swords she made. She’d gotten so good in the three years she waited that she was able to save up a decent nest-egg. 

She filled her free time dreaming of the day when Sam would come back for their date. She knew it was childish and way too girly, but she couldn’t help the hope that it could be like a fairy tale and that he would be her true love. She’d never had the inkling to daydream like that for someone she knew. The closest thing she’d gotten to crushing on a boy had been the celebrities on the posters in her room. Looking back on it, Emily knew she was just a stupid teen with her first crush, but there was something about him that had sung to her soul. No matter how many drunken nights she spent picking it apart as an adult, she couldn’t shake the conviction that she’d have laid down her life for him in a heartbeat even then. Her mother always taught her to trust her instincts and said that they were her special gift. Her mother had also told her that few other things about herself that she’d kept a secret from the hunters she knew, partly because she was afraid she’d become the prey if they knew. But it was the secret she kept that gave her hope life and kept her faithful to the boy with smiling eyes.

It was the night of her seventeenth birthday that John and Dean came back. She’d heard the rumble of the Impala and had run as fast as her legs would take her from the forge to the porch. The two men had gotten out and when Dean saw her face, his eyes had turned grim. Neither of them would tell her where Sam was and she’d thought he was dead. She’d choked down the tears and gone back to the forge, old anger and vengeance burning like the fire she used to shape the weapons. Her mind churned over the possible ways the monsters could have taken the boy she loved from her and she swore on everything she had that she would make then all pay. Dean had found her with a beer in his hand and sat down on the chair beside her anvil with a heavy look in his eyes.

“What?” she’d asked through her teeth, not wanting to hear him say it out loud.

“I’m sorry, Em,” he’d said with a sigh. “I know you really liked him.”

“When did it happen?” she’d asked quietly.

“About six months ago,” he’d said and took a swig of his beer. “He got into a fight with Dad and just walked out without a word.”

“What got him?” she’d asked, her eyes fixed on the cherry glow of the knife she was working on.

“Got him?” Dean had asked in confusion. “Emily, Sam isn’t dead. He just left. He ran off to Stanford.”

“He went to college?” she’d asked, turning back to face the older brother. “But, that’s good, right?”

“He left us, Emily. Me. Dad. I didn’t even think about it until today, but he left you, too. He just packed up his bags and didn’t look back,” he’d said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You think that’s good?”

Her chest had deflated when she thought of it like that. Sam had promised he’d always come back. But, according to Dean, he’d just gone ghost without ever thinking to come by on his way through. They’d fallen silent after Dean dropped the bomb and she’d worked herself into exhaustion to try and outrun the pain. She’d fallen hard for the boy with smiling eyes and shaggy brown hair, but he’d broken her heart and she knew she’d never get over it.

She’d tried, but her heart wouldn’t forget him. When she was eighteen, she’d borrowed one of Bobby’s cars and driven to Stanford, hoping that Sam would remember her. When she’d gotten there, she’d followed her instincts, pulling her towards him, and found him in a café with a handful of students. Her heart had leaped into her throat when she saw him and plummeted into her feet when she saw the blond girl kissing him. He seemed so happy surrounded by civilians that she realized she had no place in his world anymore because she was tainted. He wouldn’t be able to look at her without seeing the nightmares he’d so clearly left behind. She was the shadow he had forgotten with his blond ray of sunshine. She’d left the café with her head down low and gone straight to a tattoo parlor. At the time, she wasn’t sure while she’d stopped at the Ink Slingers Guild but one look at the rifle hanging over one of the stations gave her the answer. She’d spoken with the artist that owned the booth and told her that she wanted the rifle tattooed on the right side of her ribs. He’d looked at the detail and let out a low whistle, but the cash she’d handed him made him agree. She knew she’d never have Sam by her side, but when she walked out of the shop she did have a Winchester 1885 against a bed of small white forget-me-nots; one flower for every day she’d spent loving him.

He was so perfect to her that he would be the benchmark all other men would have to live up to. But, if he was capable of hurting her that bad, she didn’t want to try again with another man. If she couldn’t have the simple, normal life Sam had painted in her mind, she would steep her life in the blood he’d left behind. She was so angry with him for breaking her heart, she’d made herself into the picture of what he’d run away from. She grew cold and bitter over the years, going off to hunt on her own as soon as she turned eighteen. Bobby was pissed when she decided not to go to college after all, and Rufus was worried about the woman she had become. But she’d just gone on her way, hunting down everything in her path with a ruthless vendetta until even the other hunters were afraid of her. The monsters had stolen her childhood and her family. The hunting of monsters had driven Sam away. She blamed them for ruining everything and she wouldn’t stop until they were gone completely.  
She yawned hard as she looked through the windshield, the motion dispelling the fog of her memories as her cell phone started to ring. She flipped it open and grumbled her name by way of greeting.

“Hey, Em,” Bobby’s gravelly voice said. “Where you at?”

“I-75 heading north out of Tampa,” she said. “There was a poltergeist in the Ybor district.”

“Could I ask you a favor if you don’t have another job lined up?” he asked, making her frown. His voice sounded off. Like he was worried or something.

“I’m surprised you’re asking,” she said. 

The last time they’d spoken hadn’t been pretty. Then again, the aftermath of the Apocalypse wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. When she’d heard Sam was back in the life, she’d shadowed the brothers as best as she could but they were always on the move and the few times she’d managed to catch up, she’d chickened out at the thought of finding out that Sam didn’t even remember her anymore. There was almost a year where she’d been out of the game after Dean made a deal and was dragged down to Hell. Bobby and Rufus had thought she’d just gone dark. No one knew the truth except for her. And, maybe, Dean. But she’d come back just in time for the eternal grand finale. She’d gotten to the cemetery just in time to see Sam take a swan dive into the pit and Bobby had filled her in after Dean disappeared. She’d gone on a bender that had last three months until Bobby had given her a choice. Sober the fuck up or get the hell out. She’d hit the road itching for something to kill.

“Look, I know you and I had kinda butt heads after Sam took Lucifer to the cage,” he said. “But you’re still family, ya idjit,” he added somewhat angrily. “And I need you on this because it hits so close to home. Please, Em?”

“What’s the job?” she asked without hesitation.

“I need you to track someone. Observe and report only,” he said. “Last I know of the whereabouts was Tennessee.”

“What am I tracking?” she asked.

“A hunter,” he said evasively.

“Do I know him?” she asked and she could hear him take a deep breath.

“Yeah,” he said. “Emily, it’s Sam. He’s back from the Pit but there’s something not quite right about him. He’s not like he used to be, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“You want me to hunt Sam?” she asked, her heart skipping a few beats. She hadn’t known she was back at all, let alone on his feet and hunting again.

“Just track,” he corrected her. “Do not engage.”

“When did he get topside?” she asked.

“About nine months ago apparently,” he said and her breath caught. That meant he’d gotten out almost immediately. “He’s been running with a few hunters from his mother’s side of the family.”

Bobby gave her the details and descriptions of Sam’s crew before she hung up with a promise to call him soon. Her mind was racing as she traveled the highway, pushing her beat up Cougar as hard as she dared to make better time. She wasn’t sure about her own reality by the time she broke into the Tennessee line. She’d been hunting mindlessly nonstop, looking for something nasty enough to take her out, for almost six months. Dean had escaped into the civilian life, but she had kept hunting and killing, trying to find a way to get Sam out or die trying. The idea that it had all been a waste of time irked her a little, but the one truth that kept ringing in her skull was that he was out and he was in trouble.


End file.
